Trust
by Alex Snape
Summary: The Joker's trust is a very valuable yet fragile thing...as Harley will soon discover. NOT A ONESHOT! Nolanverse Joker and Harley. Rated M for language, sexual content, and very graphic abuse. This is based off an event mentioned in On Her Own.
1. Chapter 1

The shrill buzzing of the alarm clock echoed throughout the bedroom, and Harley groaned as her eyes fluttered open and she reached her arms toward the ceiling in a slow stretch. She hated when he went on these early morning jobs. Instead of coming to bed as soon as he returned home, The Joker would always retreat into his study, sometimes giving Harley a quick kiss on the cheek or a playful slap on her bottom as she watched him take off his coat and shoes.

Harley would sigh and then get comfortable on the bed, turning on the clock radio and listening to the jazz station as she lulled herself to sleep with a magazine. She would hear The Joker's quiet murmurs in the other room as he made calls to his men on the street, and sometimes his phone would ring and soon his voice would rise in anger at unwelcome news. He would eventually slam his phone onto his desk and then he would be quiet again, possibly snipping letters for his newspapers or even drawing up new plans for a heist or putting together a detonator.

Depending on how late and how tired The Joker was, he would either crawl into bed beside Harley or quietly come into the bedroom, grab a pillow and move back into his study where he would sleep on the old sofa. Harley didn't mind it; she understood that, depending on the job, he sometimes couldn't get any sleep. There were some mornings where she would wake up and still find him working at his desk.

The alarm was still buzzing loudly and Harley turned to look at him. He was lying flat on his back, his left arm resting above his head and his lips slightly parted. She determined that he must have come to bed really late because he didn't wash off his face paint and it was slightly smudged off his left cheek. His soft snores were vibrating in his throat but he lightly groaned when Harley nudged him.

"Mistah J?" she whispered, pushing his side. "Turn off the alarm..."

The Joker suddenly lifted his head and blinked at her and then, finally realizing what that noise was, he turned toward the clock and turned it off. He grunted as he placed his head back on the pillow and brought his arm down, placing it around Harley who had moved closer to him. "Five more minutes..." he grumbled.

"You always say that," Harley smiled. "But the night before, you always tell me to make sure you get up..."

"So...I'm a hypocrite," he replied, squeezing her to his side and rubbing his hand up and down her arm. "I came to bed about two hours ago."

"Oh...maybe you shouldn't go today..."

"I have to, Harley..." he moaned. "I have guys at the site who have been tailing this asshole for a while. I can't just cancel the job because I'm sleepy."

"You need your sleep..." she said softly.

"Then stop talking...you're wasting my five minutes..." He smirked when he heard her giggle. It was true that he hadn't gotten enough sleep for the past few nights, but he already had plans laid out, plans that had taken him hours to complete the night before, and when he had come to bed, Harley was fast asleep.

Her petite frame had been gently nestled under the thick comforter as the cold air blew into the slightly cracked window. He had rolled his eyes as he shut it, wondering why she even kept the window open even though it was mid-December. After he had gotten out of his clothes and into his pajama pants, he crawled into bed beside her, the warmth of her body and the smell of her hair making him even drowsier. The Joker had lightly kissed her behind her ear and whispered, with a lazy growl, "Sweet girl..." She only sighed as she hugged her pillow tighter.

Harley lightly ran her small hand across his bare chest, and he sighed deeply. He suddenly licked his lips, saying, "Why the hell...do you open the window at night?"

"I like the cold air to come in," she whispered. "I like being cold when I'm going to sleep."

"It was below twenty, Harl," he grumbled as he rubbed his right eye, smearing the black paint. "There was ice on the ground and you had the window open. I was freezing my ass off when I came in..."

"I like being cold at night," she repeated.

"That's why I put a ceiling fan in here..." he mumbled back. They were quiet for a moment as Harley moved her caressing hand lower onto his stomach. She could feel goose bumps grow on his skin until he finally grabbed her hand, chuckling, "Stop..."

"Does that tickle, Daddy?" she asked coyly, biting her lip.

"A bit..." He felt her hand try to sneak its way back onto his stomach. "Harley..."

"Come on. It's soothing for me."

"Not for me..."

"Please? I'll stay on your stomach...not your sides..."

The Joker turned his head and looked at her in the darkness. "That's a damn lie," he said simply.

Harley giggled. "No, really. I won't tickle; I promise."

He allowed her to lightly run her nails across his toned stomach as he gripped her close to him. She would feel him squeeze her shoulder when her fingertips would trail along the edge of his sides, just under his ribs. She knew this was a very ticklish spot on him, and although she made a promise, she just couldn't resist making him squirm.

It was the only way she knew how.

She quickly ran her nails along his left side and he let out a surprised yell as he twisted away from her. Harley let out a loud giggle, saying, "That got you up..."

The Joker was now sitting up on the edge of the bed and Harley reached out and tickled his other side. "Girl!" he said abruptly. "I'm warning you..." She didn't heed the warning, so she ran a finger down his back.

He suddenly rolled back toward her and, before she could jump off the other side, he grabbed her wrists and held them down onto her pillow, climbing on top of her and straddling her. "Oh, you, you, you..." he scolded as she giggled and squirmed underneath him. "You...sneaky little girl. You have a very hard time listening to Daddy, now, don't you?"

Harley bit her lip and nodded playfully, making him chuckle. "Well, Daddy's gonna have to teach you a lesson...because...when it comes to payback...he can play dirty, too." He held down her wrists with one hand while he teasingly wiggled his fingers in her face.

"No, Daddy!" she squeaked, laughing. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Don't!"

"Hmm...I forget," The Joker said, bringing his free hand down to her body. "Where exactly...is my baby ticklish? Hmmm...here?" He placed his fingertips on her side and she tried to scoot away. "Nah, nah. Not there. How about...here?" He reached behind her left knee and Harley squirmed as she laughed.

The Joker finally brought his fingers onto her stomach around her navel. "Oh, wait...I think it's here!" He ran his fingertips quickly over her skin and she squealed.

"Ah! No, Puddin'! Stop! Haha! That...tickles!"

He suddenly let go of her wrists and held them at her sides as he climbed between her legs. "I know how to really make you squirm..." he growled as he put his lips to her stomach. He gave her sensual kisses under her navel and along her sides, and Harley moved her body in a slithering motion as the sensation of his lips and scars caressed her skin.

"Oh...Mistah J," she sighed as she jumped under his kisses.

He quickly brought her wrists underneath her behind her back and pulled her panties down just below her hip bones, and Harley had to keep from moaning too loudly as his kisses traveled along the curve of her hips. Not only did this always make her squirm, but it also always made her weak in his grip and she would succumb to his control, happily letting him do what he wanted to her.

Not being able to bear it himself, The Joker released her wrists and pulled her panties aside, roughly inserting his tongue into her and lapping at her. Harley threw her head back in a loud gasp as her left hand instinctively gripped his hair. "Oh! Yes...oh my God, baby..." she moaned as he took her clitoris and sucked it hard. This made her moan louder and he obeyed her noises by letting a finger slowly glide into her. He stopped sucking her and instead licked her clitoris gently as his finger slid in and out of her wetness, making her moaning turn into soft, raspy breaths. He continued in this way until another finger slid inside her and when he felt she was able to bear it, he sat up and pulled his fingers in and out of her in a rough thrust-like movement, making the palm of his hand slap against her pubic bone.

Harley felt that her neck could twist in ways only a contortionist could manage as he did this, and The Joker watched her as he gave her pleasure. Her cries of ecstasy echoed through the bedroom until she finally told him what he wanted to hear. "Fuck me, Daddy...please!"

He sighed a low growl as he obligingly put himself between her legs again and brought his erection out of his pajama pants. "This pussy is mine," he demanded. "Isn't it?"

"Yes," Harley answered in a desperate tone.

"Say it..." he said as he roughly entered her, making her let out a loud moan.

"Ahh! Yes! It's yours!"

"What's mine?" he snarled as he pounded brutally into her.

"Ohh! My pussy! My pussy is yours! Oh, God!" She gripped his shoulders as she whimpered against his thrusts.

He brought his lips to her ear and embraced her, bringing his hand behind her head and gripping her neck. "That's a good girl..." he moaned into her ear, making her whine. "Mine...all mine..." His hips started to move slower and she knew that he was nearly finished, and she reached between them and began to rub herself.

"Oh, yeah, baby," he whispered. "Play with yourself...that's it..." He gripped her neck tighter as he felt his climax build as her moans echoed in his ears. "Oh, baby...yeah...come on my cock..." Her satisfied squeal made him finish and he growled against her, his scarred mouth under her jaw. When he finished, he took in deep breaths against her, the smell of her hair mingling with the smell of sweat on her skin.

Harley moaned as she began to relax into her pillow again, but she soon found The Joker raising himself from her and going into the bathroom. "Puddin?" she quietly called after him as he turned on the sink.

"Hm?" was his reply.

"Did...did you enjoy it?" she asked sheepishly.

The sink tap suddenly shut off and he came out of the bathroom, drying his hands and wearing a confused expression. "What?" he asked back. "Of course, I did. You couldn't tell?"

Harley sat up and leaned against the headboard. "Well, I mean...you usually...hold me afterwards..."

The Joker sighed as he tossed the towel behind him, making it land on the floor. She had only been living with him a few months and he had a feeling that she would be getting used to the cuddling. He regretted not stopping it as soon as he should have; he was afraid this might happen.

"Harl...I gotta go..." he simply told her.

"Oh..." she said, a bit dejected. "Okay...want me to make you breakfast?"

The Joker grimaced and took a deep breath. Great, he thought to himself. Here comes the cling...

"Nah, baby," he said. "I'm good." He changed into his pinstripe pants and started to put on his shirt. "I'll be out all day, so...why don't you go downtown or something?"

"Okay, I guess so...I need a pedicure, anyway," She displayed her toes and wiggled them at the end of the bed.

He couldn't help but chuckle at her tiny feet. "I'll say you do..." he agreed, running a finger up the sole of her left foot and making her giggle.

Harley pulled her hair back and got out of bed as he put on his vest. She went to his small closet by their bed and took down his tie. "Are you, um...gonna be home late again?"

"I don't see how that's your business," he stated in a deep tone. He didn't see why she had to know; after all, if he was home late, he was home late. What difference would it make if he had to tell her ahead of time?

She was slightly taken aback by this comment, but walked softly over to him and placed the tie around his neck. "Okay...I was just wondering..."

He sighed as she placed the tie under his collar and did her best to make a Windsor knot. He chuckled as he brought up his suspenders and said, "Come on, Harl. I'll do it..." He went to take over her tying, but she stopped him.

"Wait, wait," she said, grinning. "I think I got it." He placed his hands behind his back and watched her face twist in concentration as he felt her small hands play with the silk fabric. "Dammit..." she whispered. "I can't get...this part..."

The Joker clicked his teeth and sighed, "Here. Watch..." He took his tie and slowly demonstrated. "This is a very important process. See? Wide over the narrow part...thennnn...wide part under and through the loop...then back down...then beneath the narrow end, to the right...through the loop again..."

Harley watched with wide eyes, trying to take in every step as he continued, "Up through the loop, back down through...then, ta da! You tighten it, you put on the coat, then you go out and impress the ladies."

Harley giggled and played with the perfect tie with her fingers. "Watch it, bub."

He smiled. "Or what?"

"Or I'll make a different kinda knot with this thing..." She pulled him to her lips and they shared a soft kiss as he grinned.

"You watch your mouth, or I'll do more than use it as an accessory..." he growled back.

"Ooh..." she cooed. "Them's fightin' words, Daddy..."

He chuckled as he put his arms around her and cupped her bottom with his now gloved hands. She squealed as his lips pressed hard against hers, but sighed when he suddenly stopped and pulled away. He cleared his throat and walked to where his coat was hanging. "I gotta go, Harley. Be good..."

Harley sighed and crossed her arms. "Okay...I'll see you tonight, I guess..."

"Mmhm," he replied and shut the door after him.

Hours later, she was dressed and putting on her makeup, thinking about their morning. She didn't know why he didn't want to cuddle up with her after they made love. He always stayed in bed afterwards and they would talk, go back to sleep, or just simply lie there, his arm under her neck and his nose to her ear.

"Maybe this job is really important, after all," she decided. "He was in a real hurry this morning and this job has been keeping him up at night, too."

Later, she went downstairs into the kitchen and saw Mike, one of The Joker's men. He always left Mike behind to stay with her, just in case she needed to be driven anywhere for errands and basically to keep her company. Harley knew that he trusted her to be alone with one of his men since he had already threatened all of them that if they so much as looked at her too long that he would gouge out their eyes.

Harley sighed and smiled as she thought of this and poured herself a bowl of cereal.

"Mornin', Mikey," she greeted him as she sat at the kitchen table. "I need to go downtown later this afternoon. You think you could drive me?"

Mike smiled. "That's what I'm here for, Miss Quinn," he replied.

"Harley," she corrected him. "I keep telling you..."

"Sorry." He was quiet for a moment, but then he suddenly said, "Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. Your phone was ringing off the hook this morning."

Harley looked at him, confused. "My phone?" She peered into the den and spied it on the coffee table and shook her head when she realized that she had forgotten to take it to bed with her to charge. "What did it say on the Caller ID?"

"No name...just a number," he said.

"Hmm..." She walked over to her phone and looked at her missed calls. "Four times? Weird..." She trotted back up the stairs to the bedroom. "I'm gonna go put it on the charger and see who this creep is..."

Harley plugged in the phone and looked at the number. She felt a little hesitation as she glared at it. The only person who had her number was The Joker. Who could this be?

"Maybe a wrong number..." she told herself, but dialed it all the same.

After the fourth ring, Harley's breath caught in her throat when the call picked up, saying in a voice that carried a soft whisper, "Hello?"

Harley quickly licked her lips and stammered, "I--I just got a call from this number...may I help you?"

There was a tense pause on the other end of the line, then the voice changed its tone to that of quiet relief. "Harley..."

Her eyes grew wide when she recognized the voice. "Jonathan? How did you get my number?"

Crane chuckled. "I have my ways..."

"Okay..." she said cautiously. "_Why _do you have my number?"

The doctor was quiet for a moment, but then took a deep breath and said, "I want to see you..."


	2. Chapter 2

Harley hesitated before finally answering, "Uh...hang on a sec, Jonathan..." She set her phone on her bedside table and rushed to the bedroom door. "Hey, Mike!" she called. "Gimme a few minutes, kay? Then I'll need to go..."

Mike saluted her from downstairs. "Will do, Harley."

She shut the door and picked up the phone again, saying in a low voice, "You want to see me? Why?"

Crane chuckled again. "I need an angel right now..."

She rolled her eyes. "Crane, stop it! Do you have any idea what Mistah J would do to you if he found out you had my number?"

"Actually, yes, I do, but you know I was always one to take risks," he said. "I'm glad I do or I wouldn't be the very thing that haunts people in the night and --"

Harley growled in frustration. "What do you want, Jonathan?"

Crane sighed and finally explained, "Look, Harl. I just got out of Arkham and I'm hurt. I really can't turn to anyone on these streets since I don't know anyone. Croc was always the median when it came to exchanging goods and arranging meetings, but he's still on the inside."

"Get to the point, Crane," Harley said, impatiently.

"Harley...you're the only friend I have out here..." He lowered his voice, too, and said, "Please...I need medical supplies. Just come help me..."

She paused as she took a deep breath. He was right; although he had always had mixed feelings about her ever since she took his position over at Arkham, there was still a certain understanding of respect between the two, both as doctors and as rogues.

She finally sighed and took a pen and a piece of paper from her night stand, saying, "Where are you, Dr. Crane?"

Mike drove the Cadillac out of the abandoned lot and eased his way onto the main stretch of city street that would take them downtown. Harley stared out of the window as she clutched her purse and rested her tote bag full of first aid supplies between her feet. Mike glanced down at the floorboard and asked, "What's with all the gear, Harley?"

She gulped and stared straight ahead of her, watching the people at the crosswalk be completely oblivious to their surroundings and instead concentrate on getting to their destinations.

Harley was concentrating, as well, and she was also debating on whether or not she should give her driver the address that was written on a small piece of pink paper in her purse.

"Uh, Mike?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

"I can...trust you...right?"

He quickly gave her an awkward glance. "Uh, sure thing, Harley. What's up?"

"Okay," she began, then gulped nervously. "Uh...you know that Mistah J is...very possessive of me, right? I'm sure you guys have noticed this..."

Mike chuckled. "And how! Haha!"

"Mikey, come on. I'm being serious." He stopped chuckling as she continued, "He's also...kinda jealous...don't get me wrong; I love him, but...sometimes it gets on my nerves...he even got a little upset when I rented _The Hustler _and I kept talking about how handsome Paul Newman was..."

Mike grinned. "Yeah...my girl says that, too. But every guy knows that no one can come close to being as cool as Newman..."

She waved her hand at him, nervously. "That isn't the point, look..." She sighed and closed her eyes. "I need you...to take me to this address." She reached into her purse and gave him the pink paper.

He took it and said, "Harl...this is in The Narrows...it's kinda sleazy over there."

"I know, but...that was a friend that had called me so many times this morning, and --"

"A guy friend?" Mike asked, but with a knowing look on his face.

Harley nodded. "Yeah...a guy friend that just happens to be Numero Uno on Puddin's Black List...but, he needs my help. I need you to take me there; I only plan on being there to patch him up, so it may take a few minutes, but I need you to stand outside his door for me..."

"Got it," Mike nodded.

"And please!" she pleaded. "Don't tell the Boss."

When they stopped at a red light, Mike looked over at her and grinned. "Harley, do you really think that I would do anything to put two more people on Puddin's Black List?'

Harley giggled and sighed with relief. "Oh, God. Thanks, Mikey! You're awesome..."

Minutes later, they arrived at a worn-down building that appeared to be due for demolition. Harley gulped as she and her driver got out of the car and looked around. Although it was a beautiful, clear day, The Narrows was anything but, and Harley clutched her bags closely to her as she trotted behind Mike as he walked to the building.

She scanned the panel of call buttons for Number 3 and she quickly pressed it, rubbing the dirt from the button from her finger onto her jeans. A heavy breathing sound came out of the intercom. "Yeessss...?"

The haunting hiss gave Mike chills down his spine, but Harley simply rolled her eyes and announced, "It's me, Crane. I'm here to bandage your boo-boos."

The scratchy voice suddenly became normal again and said, "Oh, yes. Come in, Harley."

A loud buzz sounded and Mike opened the door for her, and she traveled as quickly as she could to the second floor to the door on the right, just as Crane had indicated. "Mike," Harley whispered.

However, he knew what she wanted. "I'll be right here," he whispered back, pointing the spot across from the door.

She grinned and was soon tapping gently onto the moldy slab of wood. "Johnny?" she said, softly.

The door knob turned and the door creaked open, allowing Harley to squeeze herself inside and leaving her driver trying to peer in after her.

The room was dimly lit by one lamp and the shade of the only window in the tiny efficiency was closed tightly. She heard a match being lit and gasped as she turned to the direction of the stove, where she saw Jonathan Crane lighting a candle stick on a brass candelabra.

Their eyes met and Harley's mouth parted in slight shock. Crane was only a couple of years older than she, but at that moment he looked even more aged. There were dark circles around his eyes from sleepless nights, and she could see his left cheek still healing from a blow to the face, a yellowish purple wound appearing like a kaleidoscope on his pale skin.

He smiled meekly, saying, "Hello...Dr. Quinzel."

Harley could feel small goose flesh on her neck and shoulders, but she shrugged it off by setting her first aid bag on the small kitchen table. "Oh...Jonathan...your face..."

"I know..." he agreed. "I look much better with my bag right about now..."

"Oh, no. That isn't what I meant," she said, bringing out a cold pack and a tube of ointment from her bag. "That bruise isn't healing right...have a seat..."

He smirked at her instant reaction to nurture as well as how healthy she looked. "You're looking rather well, Doctor," he pointed out to her. "Looks like the streets are keeping you well-fed..."

She sighed as she popped open the cold pack and went to apply it to his cheek. "I have Mistah J to thank for that, actually. He sees to it that we're both well-fed and comfortable..."

The very mention of The Joker gave Crane chills of his own, not those of titillation but of resentment. "Ah...so, you _are _with the clown? I had thought that it was a rumor..."

Harley took his hand to make him hold the cold pack and she looked down at him, curiously, "Rumor?"

"Mm," he responded. "That you were having an affair with him. Did you really think that people wouldn't find it odd if they discovered that he broke out and then you disappeared? Ha! How conveniently droll of you, Harl -- Ouch!" He yelped as she slapped another pack onto his shoulder through his torn shirt.

He chuckled as she gave him a cold glare. "No matter, eh? What's done is done. I hope you're happy, is all..."

"I am, thank you very much, Doctor." She ripped his shirt off his shoulder as she carefully applied ointment to a laceration with a cotton swab.

Crane began to chuckle, making her stop and ask sternly, "What's so funny?"

"Ah," he began. "I just remember that...when you took over my office and my career...you were the only one in the asylum...that still addressed me by my stripped title..."

"Once a doctor, always a doctor," Harley replied quietly.

He gazed up at her and realized that she still looked the same. After he had heard the rumors about Harley and her patient, both before and after their sudden disappearance, he often wondered how she would fare under The Joker's thumb. He was able to tell right off that the clown was falling for her, but he never imagined that he could actually go so far as to _care_ for her.

"You look as radiant as ever, Harley..." he whispered.

She stopped her work after she bandaged his shoulder and watched him as he suddenly stood up from his chair, slowly removing his tattered white shirt. Her eyes went wide. "Whoa, just a minute, Johnny..."

Crane smiled as he tossed his shirt onto the dirty sofa. "I just wanted you to look at my back," he stated. "I think I have a few bruises there, too."

Harley couldn't help but steal a few glances toward his naked torso, but she soon averted her eyes and instead began to dig deeper into her tote bag. When she turned back toward him, he had turned the chair around to where he was straddling it, and Harley could see small cuts along his sides as well as a few bruises over his shoulder blades.

"Oh...Jonathan..." she muttered.

He sighed and grinned. "I liked when you still called me Doctor, but...that sounds fine, too."

Harley started to apply ointment on his small cuts and she finally asked, "So, Crane...how did you really get my number?'

"A magician never reveals the secrets of his magic..." he mumbled.

"You're not magical," she said. "You wear a potato sack and spray people with green gas."

"It isn't gas, Harley," Crane replied through gritted teeth. "You have no idea what my formula is capable of..."

She pursed her lips, trying not to giggle. "Oh, really? If it makes you so mad that I'm cracking jokes about you, then...why don't you demonstrate?"

He snickered. "Harley...they're not _your _jokes, I'm sure, but your 'clown's.' Why would I allow you to mend my wounds just to give you a scare? Besides...I would never do that to you."

"Oh? And why's that?"

"Because..." He slowly turned in his chair to pierce his gaze into her bright blue eyes. "I wouldn't need my formula to put you on your knees..."

Harley paused in her cleaning and looked at him, then finally began to pack her tote bag. "Right, then," she said. "I'm leaving..."

Realizing what he said, he quickly shot out of his chair and gently put his hands on her shoulders. "Harley, please! I...I'm sorry...I don't know what came over me. It's just...well..." Her eyes gazed cautiously into his and he let his arms fall to his sides. "Harley...you're an angel," he said as he rubbed the bandage on his shoulder, but then remembered to put the cold pack back onto his cheek. "It's just...I can't believe that you're actually still alive after all these months, being on the streets and with...that..._freak_..."

Harley put her hands on her hips. "He...is not...a freak, Jonathan," she told him darkly. "You, of all people...of all patients...should know that. He may have been a freak when you were still practicing, but now you're on the other side of that thin line that separates us from _them_!"

Crane smirked, amused at how her petite frame could hold such a bold stance as the one she was holding now. "I'm just astounded at you, Harley. You've always been the strong one...or so I thought. The Joker got to you; he doesn't care for you. You'll find that out soon enough..."

"That's it," Harley spat. "I'm leaving; I don't have to listen to this. You don't know me! You don't know _him_!" She angrily began to pack her tote bag, sneering as she continued to rant, "All those...colleagues of mine...can go to hell! They never cared about me! Mistah J was, is, and will always be the one who truly cares about me!"

She began to stomp away until she heard Crane's calm tone, "I care, Harley..."

She stopped in front of the door and turned to reply, but instead of her words being caught by his ears, they were caught by his lips as he gently pressed them against hers.

Harley's shoulders relaxed and she let her bags fall to the floor as he encircled his arms around her waist. She softly moaned as she closed her eyes, momentarily relishing in his gentle touch. However, she snapped out of her passionate reverie when the cold pack on his shoulder fell and the iciness left a stinging sensation on her chest.

She gasped loudly and pushed herself away from his grasp. "Jonathan! No!" He stared back at her, his expression not changing and his grin remaining on his face. "Oh my God..." Harley began to panic. "Oh, God. No, no, no...I did not just do that..."

"Um...I think you did, Harley," Crane said, chuckling. "And I think you liked it..."

"Ahh!" she shrieked. "No! I didn't! I don't love you! Why did I...? Oh, God!"

Mike's voice sounded through the door. "Harl? You okay in there?"

"Yeah..." she nervously called back. "I'll be out in a minute, Mikey." She turned back to Crane, who was still smiling. "What the fuck is so funny?"

"You are, Harley..." he said, calmly. "You always were. Oh, come on...it was just a kiss..."

"Not to me, Johnny! It was a betrayal..." Her eyes began to water. "Oh...shit, Harley..."

"Hey...don't worry," Crane said, coming over to her and trying to embrace her. "This can be between us..."

"But there is nothing between us, Jonathan! Nothing!"

He smirked. "Well...there is now. But...it can be our secret..."

A tear finally fell onto Harley's cheek. "I know...and that's what hurts me...I betrayed him, Jonathan..."

Crane sneered and replied, frustrated, "What makes you think that he hasn't betrayed _you_, Harley? What makes you so damned sure that he's...faithful...to you when he's out late at night while he leaves you alone?"

She sniffed and lifted her bags again, adjusting them on her shoulder and giving Crane a solemn look. "Because..." she choked. "He still comes back home to me..."

He stared at her in disbelief until she broke their stunned silence by saying, "I think...it would be good for all of us...if you never called me again, Jonathan..."

With that, she left him alone, his wounds bandaged and her pride scarred.


	3. Chapter 3

Harley's pedicure wasn't as relaxing as she had anticipated as she felt that she was more sensitive to the pumice stone and the massaging chair than usual. The woman scrubbing her feet kept giving her strange glances, not because of the nervous tension Harley was displaying, but at the fact that she had been the only customer to ask for a pedicure since the beginning of winter.

Harley gripped her phone tightly, thinking that one missed call could result in The Joker's instant suspicion. She laughed at this sudden thought; she felt as if he already had something to be jealous of, and that his unanswered calls would be proof. However, she kept her phone close and casually glanced at the big screen television in the spa, not really paying attention to the bizarre plotline of the soap opera that was playing.

Afterwards, she had Mike drive her to the medical supply store to replenish her first aid bag. "I don't want Mistah J digging through here and figuring out that our supplies have run low in just two days." She sorted through the bag and made mental note of exactly what she needed.

Mike just sighed. "You think he'd really notice?" he asked. "I mean, he must come home with a new injury every time."

"Yeah, most nights," Harley mumbled as she counted the cotton swabs. "He gets a lot of bruises, really. So...I'll definitely need more cold packs."

After an hour hunting for the correct number of half-inch gauze strips and searching every corner of the supply store for the right brand of ointment, they were soon back on the streets again in the old Cadillac, passing by people walking home from a long day at work and now concentrating on the soothing cigarette that drooped from their mouths.

They were silent on the drive back to the old theatre, until Harley said simply, "He kissed me, Mike."

Her driver bit his lip and nodded, only replying, "Hmm...so that's the reason for all the commotion."

"Yeah..." she confirmed.

Harley looked down at her toes and wiggled them, staring at the outrageous flower that was painted on her right big toe. "I don't know how it happened...I'm starting to think that he only asked me there to do _that _to me...but he was really injured. He looked horrible..."

Mike stared straight ahead of him as she continued, shrugging, "I could kinda tell he felt something...sometimes...in Arkham. The way he would look at me as I walked past his cell. I always had to walk by there when I was going to Mistah J's sessions. He would sometimes smile...sometimes it would be the evil eye...he never forgave Dr. Arkham for giving me his job...so he resented me sometimes."

"Weird..." was all Mike could think to say.

"Yeah..." Harley reclined the passenger seat and stretched out. "Promise me, Mikey."

"I already did, Harley..."

She put her arms over her eyes and relaxed. "Good thing Mistah J is coming home late or he'd be wondering about all these extra supplies..."

Mike's eyes suddenly grew wider. "Uh, Harl..."

"I mean, especially after what just happened. I must look so guilty right now..."

"Miss Quinn...?"

Harley giggled and shook her head. "Man...can you imagine what he'd say if we pulled up right now and tried to sneak a big bag of cold packs inside the theatre?"

Mike cleared his throat. "Looks like we're about to find out..."

"Huh?" Harley sat upright in the seat and her heart jumped into her throat when she spied Bobby's car parked in he lot.

"He's home? What the hell, man?" As they pulled up further, however, they found Sly coming out of the theatre with a gun over his shoulder and he met them as they parked. "Sly!" Harley barked at him. "Why's Mistah J home so early?"

The red-headed thug was shocked by her sudden interrogation and he just shrugged. "He ain't here, Harley."

"What?" she asked as she and Mike got out of the car.

Sly jumped back into the car and said, "I brought back the car to get more supplies. Hey, you alright? You look kinda sick." He had noticed the sudden change in skin tone on her face.

Harley gulped down the panic that had been stuck in her throat when they drove into the lot. "Yeah..." she said. "I'm alright. I guess I'm getting a small cold."

Sly chuckled and glanced at her feet. "Not surprised. Who the hell gets a pedicure in the winter?" Harley looked down and noticed that she was still wearing the thin green pedicure flip-flops and they were soaking in the ice on the ground.

"Oh, wow...I'm a ditz," she mumbled.

Sly just laughed. "You're somethin' else, Harl." With that, he turned on the ignition and sped out of the lot, leaving Harley and Mike dumbfounded, yet relieved.

Harley moaned as Mike joked, "Man...I nearly pissed myself."

She turned and said as she opened the backseat to retrieve her medical bag, "You and me both, brother..."

Hours later, the first aid bag was back under the bathroom counter and Harley was now reclining against the headboard of the bed, reading a magazine and listening to the radio. She had trouble concentrating on the article she was looking at and finally tossed the magazine onto the floor when she realized that she had been staring at the same page for the past ten minutes. She sighed as she put herself under the thick comforter.

Harley started thinking about what had happened between her and Crane and upon remembering how soothing his touch was brought the tears back to her eyes. She quietly sobbed into her pillow as she thought of the feeling of his arms so gently wrapped around her body as they kissed. It had felt so...nice. So different from how rough The Joker could be with her, both verbally and passionately. Although she liked it sometimes, Harley wished that he could hold her as tenderly as Crane had.

"No!" she shouted into her pillow as her tears fell onto the satin fabric. Soon, her crying died down and she drifted into a light sleep, curling into a fetal position and shutting her eyes tight.

Harley suddenly came out of her slumber when she heard a voice whispering close to her. "Harley..." it softly called. "Harley..." A gloved hand gently cupped itself around her arm and the cold leather made her open her eyes a bit as it shook her awake. "Harley Girl...wake up. Daddy's home..."

She moaned sleepily and rolled onto her back, opening her eyes and seeing The Joker walk away from the bed and taking off his coat slowly as he grunted. Harley looked at her nightstand and noticed that her lamp was still turned on and her clock read 2:36 am, and she lifted herself up as she rubbed her eyes. "Puddin'?" she whispered as she sat on the edge of the bed, letting her cold feet hover above the floor.

"Come here," his voice suddenly came from the bathroom.

Harley obeyed his call and yawned as she walked to the open door to find The Joker standing in front of the sink, now carefully taking off his vest. When her eyes finally adjusted to the light, Harley saw a giant blood stain on the left arm of his shirt, and she genuinely woke up and went over to him to help him undress.

He tilted back his head as he allowed her to slide down his suspenders and then carefully remove his shirt. He hissed as the fabric clung to his bloody wound, and Harley cooed, "Oh...baby...this looks deep."

"It feels deep," he muttered. He moved to the toilet and closed the lid so that he could sit on it, grunting as he did so, and Harley busied herself with her normal routine of rummaging through the first aid bag.

He watched her prepare a wash cloth with peroxide and noticed that she was wearing a tight black tank top with matching panties. The Joker grinned as he gazed at her body, but then licked his lips and looked away when she came over to him.

"This is gonna sting," she whispered.

He groaned in pain as she dripped peroxide onto his arm and dabbed it with the cloth. "I'm sorry, Pud..." she said as she pressed on his cut.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he felt the peroxide burn. "You always say that," he said, in an almost annoyed tone of voice.

Harley glanced down at him and noticed his gloomy expression, and she assumed that the job didn't go very well for him today. However, she kept quiet and continued to dress his wound. She knew that she wasn't allowed to ask him about the outings he went on almost every night, but she couldn't help but wonder. Did he always run into The Batman? Were they bank jobs? Mob jobs?

"How'd this happen?" she asked, daringly.

The Joker rubbed his scarred cheeks. "Does it matter?" he growled.

"Well...I'd like to know if...I have to take out a bullet, is all," she explained.

"Does this look like a bullet wound to you, sweetheart?"

She pursed her lips in frustration, but soon she felt his hand caress her thigh as she wrapped gauze around his arm. "That's as clean as I can get it..."

He sighed and looked up at her. "You always fix me up well." He grinned when she smiled at his remark but then noticed something. "Are you okay?"

Harley turned her neck quickly to look at him and her heart started pounding. Did she look guilty?

"Um..." she began. "I think I'm getting a little cold. I've been sniffling all night."

"Aw..." he replied playfully. "Poor little Harley. Catching cold from a winter pedicure." She giggled and he suddenly slapped her thigh. "Lemme see."

She stepped back and took off her socks to reveal the hot pink paint on her toenails and The Joker tilted his neck and squinted his eyes as he looked at them. "Cute..." He then pointed at her big toe. "What is that? An otter?"

Harley threw back her head and laughed. "No! That's a flower!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "I told her what to paint. That's a flower."

"Hmm," he mused. "Well, either it's a flower or she's playing a really bad joke on you."

She shrugged. "Oh, well. It was only twenty bucks."

"Whaaat?" The Joker asked in a silly high-pitched voice. "You paid twenty bucks for an otter on your big toe?"

"It's not an otter!" she said, lightly slapping his unharmed shoulder in a lighthearted manner.

"I say take the twenty bucks next time, go to the beauty store, and _I'll_ paint your toenails. That's highway robbery!" he said.

Harley couldn't control her laughter as he stood up and headed to the bedroom. She soon was giggling quietly as she cleaned up, and he sat on the end of their bed looking at his phone. "Is that all you did today?" his voice echoed into the bathroom.

She slightly panicked and bumped her head on the counter as she stood up from placing the bag in its place. "Ah!" she yelped.

He chuckled. "I know you're short, but not that much...clumsy..."

She walked into the bedroom rubbing the top of her head and she replied, "Uh...I didn't do much. Just a pedicure...then came home."

The Joker looked up at her and sniffed. "Hm. Still much better than my day..." He threw his phone aside onto the bed and they gazed at each other, she staring at his naked torso and him smirking at her legs. "Come here..." he told her, patting his lap.

Harley's big smile grew across her face as she walked over to him and straddled him. She leaned back and they looked into each other's eyes, and she could see how tired he was from being out all day. They didn't say a word to one another and he smiled back at her and moved a lock of hair from her face and put it behind her ear.

The sudden moment of quiet tenderness surprised her and she started to think about the incident with Crane earlier that afternoon, and when she let out a miserable sigh, The Joker's brow wrinkled with slight concern. "What's wrong?"

Harley looked down and closed her eyes, trying desperately to stop the tears from forming again. However, she was prevented from doing so when his rough hand kindly cupped her chin, and when he raised her eyes to meet his, the tears fell onto her cheeks. "Baby..." he said, softly, wiping away the drops.

She felt his hands move to her waist and the slight pressure they applied allowed her to lean into him, and she wrapped her arms around him as he enveloped her in his. He put his lips to her neck and kissed her as she sobbed onto his shoulder.

This is just what she imagined; she had craved this for a while from The Joker, but instead received it from Crane. After her visit with him, she began to wonder why her own boyfriend never gave her any attention like this, and she had felt stupid for even feeling guilty for wanting to be with someone who didn't show her that he cared.

Crane's accusations of The Joker's fondness for Harley were disproved when The Joker had let her cry in his arms.

"Oh...Puddin'..." she sighed, and she felt him squeeze her tighter.

"Shh..." he replied, kissing her cheek and then placing his chin on her shoulder. "Oh, it's been a rough day for the both of us," he groaned. "The job was crap...I got another scar to look forward to...and you paid twenty dollars for an otter."

He laughed when he felt Harley giggle, her small frame bouncing against his chest. "It's a flower," came her muffled voice from the crook of his neck.

"Harley, Harley, Harley...silly girl...flowers don't have whiskers."

They shared another laugh but he was quiet when she mumbled, "People are wrong about you..."

"Oh?" he asked, raising an intrigued eyebrow. "How so?'

She lifted her head and placed her cheek on his shoulder as he began to rock back and forth. "Just...people talk...in the asylum...they said you were a monster, but...I knew better..." He smiled and closed his eyes as she continued, "There are still others out there...who say the same thing..."

He rubbed her back and chuckled. "If they could only see us now..."

Harley grinned and sighed heavily, whispering in a very low murmur, "Stupid Jonathan...what does he know?"

The Joker suddenly stopped rocking her and his eyes shot open, and just when Harley realized what she said in her tranquility, but before she could correct herself, The Joker's mood changed in the guise of a severe tone of voice...

"What did you say?"


	4. Chapter 4

**WARNING: VERY GRAPHIC ABUSE! **

Harley froze, her arms still locked tightly around The Joker's shoulder as her heart began to pound in her chest. For a moment, she couldn't breathe, but finally she inhaled deeply and licked her lips, whispering, "Um...I didn't..."

"You said 'Jonathan,'" he growled. He stared toward the bathroom where she had just dressed his wound not even five minutes ago, but he kept her tightly gripped in his arms. He also took a deep breath and after a long, slow exhale, he asked, "This better not be...the 'Jonathan'...that _I'm _thinking of...the one who just broke out of Arkham."

Harley blinked and lifted herself to look at him, and she found that his dark eyes had suddenly grown an even darker cloud over them as he looked at her. She couldn't believe that he knew that Crane had broken out of the asylum, but then she remembered that The Joker was on the street all time, and news traveled quickly amongst the rogues.

She bit her lip and nodded, nervously.

He squinted his eyes in sarcastic curiosity. "How did _you_...happen to know he was out?"

"Um..." she began. "He...he called me..."

"He what?" The Joker asked through gritted teeth.

Harley fretfully played with her fingers. "He...called me."

"How the hell did he get your number?"

"I-I don't know, Puddin'," she stammered. "He wouldn't tell me. I asked him but all he said was that...he had his ways...even when I went over to help him, I--"

"Went over?" he asked, his brow growing deeper with anger. "Went over where? Why?"

"He said he was hurt and that he needed medical supplies," Harley explained. "I told him no, but...he sounded like he needed...a friend..."

"Harley, you know how I feel about this creep! How the hell could you go over there when--"

"He said he didn't know anyone else out here," Harley belted. "And that he needed help! So, as a friend, I went over to--"

"Friend..." The Joker said, simply. "Do you know what kinda friend he really wanted in you, Harl? Do you know how many times I was thrown into the Box every time I smashed his face in for what he would say about you!"

"Oh, I'm _sooo _sorry that I went to see a friend in need and that it insulted your 'oh so chivalric' acts!" Harley declared.

He sneered at her and gave her a threatening glare. "Don't you dare raise your voice to me, little girl."

Harley calmed down and licked her lips, saying, "I'm sorry, Daddy, but...yes, I went over there. And he looked horrible; he was all bruised up and he had cuts on his face and--"

"Oh, poor wittle Johnny," The Joker said, rolling his eyes. "Hang on; lemme get my violin before I weep..."

Her brow was now creasing in annoyance at his teasing. "So I helped him because I was the only one he could turn to. He had a giant wound on his shoulder; he looked like pure hell. And his chest was sunken in and his ribs were--"

"Whoa, whoa!" The Joker stopped her, tilting his head suspiciously and glaring at her. "How did you know that his chest and ribs looked terrible?" There was an awkward pause and The Joker chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, that's just rich!" he exclaimed and said in a nasally voice, mockingly, "Oh, Harley...I'm so wounded. Please be a sweetie and, my, is it hot in here...I think I'll undress...alone...with another man's girlfriend!"

Harley crossed her arms and nodded her head. "You really are pathetic!"

"And you are so fucking naive!" he pointed a finger into her chest. "You really think he wanted you there to be a damn nurse? Yeah, he wanted a friend alright; one with certain benefits..."

"Oh, just stop it! You make it sound like I wanted to fuck him!"

Downstairs, Bobby, Sly and Mike were trying to enjoy their dominoes game, but stopped when Harley's last statement echoed through the bedroom door. Sly looked at Bobby and said, "Ah, shit...I think I know what's comin'..." Bobby nodded and returned to his dominoes, but Mike kept his gaze toward the bedroom.

The Joker grinned. "Why else would he go behind my back and get your number? He's wanted you for a long time, Harley. He reminded me of it everyday at Arkham and it took enough outta me to keep myself from ripping his balls off!"

"Gah!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up and slapping the palms onto her thighs. "Will you get a grip! If it makes you feel any better, I didn't fall for any of his 'come ons' he threw at me..."

The Joker's eyebrows raised. "Like what? What did he say?"

She waved an indifferent hand and replied, "Oh, he got upset when I made fun of that stupid gas he sprays at people, so I said, 'Well, Johnny, if you don't like it, then prove me wrong.' But, he said he would never use it against me because...well..." She paused when she realized that if she continued then the hole she was digging would eventually trap both her and Crane.

"Because what?" The Joker asked in a low tone.

Harley bit her lip and saw that there was no turning back now. "Because...he said he wouldn't need the gas to make me get on my knees..."

She looked at The Joker and his eyes had grown wide with rage and she saw his tongue massaging the inside of his cheeks. "Get up..." he commanded in almost a whisper.

She grew nervous again. "Puddin'..."

"Get up, Harley," he said and, this time, she obeyed, quickly hopping off of his lap and watching him go into the bathroom and put on his shirt.

"Oh, no," Harley whispered to herself. "Mistah J..." she said, trotting over to him. When she reached his side, he was already tying his tie around his neck. "Uh...where ya goin', Pud?"

"Where do you think I'm going?" he answered, annoyed at the fact that she was playing dumb. "Tell me where he is."

Harley sighed. "Puddin', come on. Forget about it! I told him not to call me anymore. It's in the past now!"

"He insulted you, Harley! Don't you see that!" The Joker yelled at her. "He also insulted me by going behind my back!" He buttoned his vest, but stopped when he realized something else. "Oh! And I think you owe me an apology..."

She sneered. "What? What did I do?"

He sighed and rested his hand against the bathroom counter as he stepped closer to her. "When Crane called, the correct thing that should have gone through your head was that you needed to tell me where you were going first..._not _the other way around..."

Harley's jaw dropped. "Are you saying this whole thing is my fault! That you losing your temper over something so small...is all because of me!"

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" he told her. "I asked you what else you did today and you said nothing! That you came straight home! You fucking lied to me, Harley! Not only did you go over to see another guy...a guy that I just happen to think would be more useful to the human race if he were strung up by his entrails...you lied to me!"

"I just told you everything!" Harley screamed back at him.

He sneered. "Not ten minutes ago you said you came straight home and did nothing else! Then you pour this bullshit on me! And now you're trying to protect him! What else are you hiding from me, Harley? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't go over there and skin him alive!"

Harley's patience had finally exhausted when she suddenly declared, "Because I knew that I had already betrayed you by lying to you, by going behind your back, too! You have no idea how much it hurt me to know that I was also hurting your trust in me! Even when he kissed me, I felt--"

"Wait a minute!" The Joker's demanding voice stopped her. He walked closer to her and she was forced to take a seat on the edge of the bathtub as he cornered her. "He kissed you?" he asked in an eerie whisper.

Harley gulped. "Yes..." she whispered back.

He straightened and walked over to the counter again, and looking in the mirror and straightening his tie, he announced, "Oh, he's dead," and he stomped back into the bedroom again.

"Mistah J! Wait!" Harley ran to him, grabbing his arm as he reached for his coat. "Don't go over there!"

"Tell me where he is, Harley..." he said, calmly.

"No! I won't! I don't want you to go over there!"

A sudden slap to her left cheek silenced her and while it throbbed, The Joker said again, "Tell me...where he is..."

She slowly turned back and he saw a red mark on her cheekbone where he had just struck her. Usually, a blow like that would get what he wanted, but his heart started to pound when he saw the defiant look that Harley still held.

He stepped closer to her and gripped her arm tightly. "You know...you keep stopping me from walking out the door...I'm starting to suspect...that you didn't mind him kissing you...that it would be your little secret...how funny that The Joker's girlfriend could have her own little joke to tell..."

"You're a monster!" she spat at him. "I'm trying to explain myself, trying to apologize, but you're not listening!"

"That's the problem, Harley!" he shouted. "I _am _listening! Now, you listen! Tell me where he is, or you're really gonna see a monster..."

"You know? I'm glad he kissed me!" she declared. "It's a lot better than the _three minutes of sex _you give me only to leave me alone for twelve hours every day!"

His reply was a tight grip around her neck and a sudden shove into the wall, and the back of her head bounced against the thick wood as she heard him stomp over to her. He sent a backhand to her other cheek and she shrieked in pain as she tried to inch away from him.

The Joker caught her attempts, however, and he became furious. "You little cunt..." he murmured before pulling her to him and gripping her hair. She yelped as she was brought to her knees and made to get on all fours, her eyes beginning to grow moist. "Stay!" he commanded. She didn't know why she obeyed, but she began to regret it when he came back over to her, a belt looped in his hand. "You're nothin' but an ungrateful little bitch! I give you everything! Everything you could truly want is at your aching fingertips, and what do I get? Lies and insults! You know what happens to useless little dogs when they've upset their masters?"

"You don't own me!" Harley bravely shouted, but squealed in agony when she felt the leather of the belt fall across the middle of her back.

The sound of leather hitting skin along with Harley's high-pitched screams echoed in Mike's ears and he suddenly stood up from their game. Sly noticed the determined look in his eye and said, "Whoa, Rookie. Sit down. There's nothing you can do!"

"I can't just sit here and listen to that, man!" Mike said in an anxious whisper. "Are you actually telling me to ignore that!"

Bobby looked up at him. "If you wanna live...yes!"

Harley was now trying to keep herself upright as The Joker continued to beat the belt into her back, but she suddenly dropped onto her side, facing his dirty shoes. "Get up!" he shouted, but when she still lay there in a sobbing heap, he saw red and began to deliver swift, deep kicks into her stomach.

"Ahh! Puddin'! Stop it!" she screamed. "Pleeeaase...!" Her sobs went unheard by him as she rolled onto her back, but she soon let out a high-pitched screech when he gave her a final kick just underneath her ribcage.

She suddenly took in a huge gulp of air and lay on her back, looking up at The Joker whose face still held a livid frown.

The sudden quiet from upstairs finally forced Mike to leave the game and go into the kitchen. Bobby stood up to see that he was looking through the cabinets and called a warning to the rookie when he saw him suddenly carrying a big frying pan to the stairs. "What the fuck, man! Are you nuts?"

Back in the bedroom, The Joker watched as Harley began to crawl away from him to go into the bathroom. She paused in her attempt when she heard him stomp over to her and he said, in a low voice, "Where is he, Harley?"

Harley chuckled at her ironic situation. She never wanted to tell him what happened with Crane because she knew The Joker would get angry, but now he was angry because she _did _tell him.

Defeated, she pointed to the open counter door in the bathroom at the first aid bag and he went over to it and began to dig inside. He found the address on the pink piece of paper, pocketed it, and began to walk over to where he kept his coat. However, when he looked down at Harley and saw that she was starting to move again, for some strange reason, he couldn't stand the sight of the tiny ounce strength she was displaying, even though she was beaten and half-dressed.

The Joker went over to her and suddenly dropped to her, grabbing her roughly and propping her onto her knees. He took out his switchblade and the sound of it opening woke her up, and she started to crawl away as he ripped off her panties. "Oh, no you don't..." he said in a harsh whisper. "I'm not done with you yet."

Harley heard him unzip his pants and she started to plead, "No, Daddy! Please! Stop! Don't do this...Ahhh!" She screamed as he forced himself inside her and he gripped a handful of her hair as he thrust hard against her.

"You never tell me to stop," he said, darkly. "You don't have a choice, baby..."

Her cheek and elbows were sliding against the coarse carpet of the bedroom, burning her skin. She was afraid; not only because of what he was doing to her, but also because she knew his knife was still open and she had no idea what he was going to do.

She had seen him before when he flew into a blind rage, and this was the first time that she had actually feared for her life in regards to The Joker.

"You're mine..." he growled. "All this is mine..." He pounded harder into her and her crying became desperate howls. "You told me yourself that you belong to me! And now...you wanna take all that back? It's too late for that!"

Harley suddenly felt him put the cold blade of the knife on her right shoulder. She tried to grip the fibers of the carpet, dreadfully anticipating the sting she would soon receive from its edge.

"I think you need to be reminded of whose property you are!" The Joker yelled, and he pressed the blade into her skin, Harley's painful screams soaking into the carpet along with the blood that oozed from the line he was cutting.

The bedroom door suddenly opened and The Joker turned to see Mike's angry expression, but The Joker was late in his reaction and instead received a blow to the face with a frying pan.

He slumped to the floor in a groan and lay still on his stomach, his bloody switchblade still in his right hand.

Harley sat up and crossed her legs to cover herself as she screamed, "Mike! Oh, my God! What did you do!"

Mike stood dumbstruck, both at the fact that Harley seemed angry and also that he just knocked his boss out cold.

"I--I..." he stammered, then threw her The Joker's coat. "Put that on. We're leaving!"

"What!" Harley shrieked. "You've gone nuts!"

"Harley! Come on! You're bleeding!" Mike yelled back at her. "Grab your bag and let's book it!"

She hesitated at first, but when she looked at her unconscious boyfriend as he still held the knife he had put to her, Harley jumped up and quickly put on her pajama pants, grabbed her first aid bag, and draped The Joker's coat over her shoulders.

She followed Mike down the stairs and the other two men stared at them as they trotted out the door. Bobby shouted after them as the door slammed shut, "Nice knowin' you, Rookie!"

An hour later, The Joker groaned as he opened his eyes and brought his hand to his temple. It was pounding as he made himself sit up and he found that he was still holding his switchblade. His memory of how he ended up face first in the carpet came back to him when he spied the blood on the blade, and he grunted as he lifted himself to his feet, looking around for his coat.

He stumbled in his footing and went into the bathroom. He looked at his reflection and, although he couldn't tell it from his paint, he knew he would have an enormous bruise on the whole left side of his face.

The Joker stood looking at himself in the mirror and realized what he had done. Even though he knew Harley had lied to him and broke his trust, he felt a tinge of anxiety when he recalled the sounds of the kicks to her stomach and the pitch of her screams.

He rubbed his eyes and walked back into the bedroom and saw that Harley was gone. He didn't worry; he had a feeling of where she went, and if she _wasn't _there, he meant to pay a visit to her 'friend' anyhow.

He threw open the bedroom door and slowly walked down the stairs to his two men and noticed that Mike had gone, just as he had suspected.

The Joker looked at his men, but then walked over to Bobby as he took a pink piece of paper from his pocket and said, in a low voice, "Bob...I need a ride..."


	5. Chapter 5

Crane was carefully applying pressure to Harley's cut with a dry cloth as she leaned against the arm of his old couch. She would wince her face when she felt the stinging sensation and Mike sat at the small table in the attached kitchen and watched the doctor mend her wound. He would catch Harley's glances and he noticed that her eyes were wide with both shock and sadness.

"He didn't pierce too deeply, Harley," Crane muttered as he worked, now applying small drops of peroxide onto her shoulder as she sniffed.

"Thank you, Jonathan," she whispered, and placed her face in her folded arms. "It was...terrifying...he's...he's never done that to me before..."

Crane sneered at her naivety and shook his head. "I guarantee, my dear...that if you go back to him, he may do worse..."

"It doesn't matter," she said. "He's coming to get me; I know...I gave him this address."

"What?" said Crane, nervously.

"Well, he did beat it out of me," Harley replied through gritted teeth.

Mike kicked at the floor with his shoes and finally stood up to join them at the sofa. "And you, Mikey," he heard Harley's voice say. "If he finds you, you're dead."

"What about you?" Mike asked her. "You left, too."

"Yeah...but I didn't hit him with a frying pan."

Crane snickered. "How cliché, Michael."

"What was I supposed to do, Harl?" Mike demanded. "Just let him beat you into a pulp? Jesus, when I came in, he was raping you!"

Crane suddenly stopped wrapping her wound and he snarled, "Raped you?"

"He..." Harley slowly sat upright. "He wasn't...I mean, he didn't..."

"There's no way around it, Harley," Mike told her. "He was holding you down and having his way with--"

"Stop it!" she shrieked, covering her ears. She jumped up from the sofa and walked to the window, staring out into the early morning darkness. "He was...just so angry at me...I shouldn't have lied to him..." She sighed and wiped her perspiring brow. "I deserved it."

Crane's eyes grew wide and he stepped over to her. "Deserved what?" he asked softly. "The kick in the ribs? The welts on your back? The forced sex? He could have killed you, Harley..."

"He wouldn't do that!" she declared, turning to face her friend. "It's just...he...he had a bad job tonight; he was already sore about it and I didn't make things better by--"

"Harley! Snap out of it!" Crane yelled. "Are you listening to yourself? You're defending a maniac who just tried to carve his name into you! Why are you denying what happened?"

"I'm not denying it," Harley said, calmly. "I'm accepting it."

Mike's jaw dropped. "Accepting it?"

"It's what I get...for breaking his trust...for lying to him and for insulting him..." she explained as she sat on the sofa again. "Mikey?" she said, looking at the rookie as he walked over to her. "If there's anyone that needs to leave town, it's you. I know Mistah J; he doesn't take too kindly to defiance...especially in the form of a frying pan to the face."

Crane once again snickered and rolled his eyes. He sat next to Harley and put his arm around her back, carefully. "You're not actually considering...going back to him, are you?"

She sighed. "Where else can I go, Johnny? My family has practically shut me out and I don't have any money to move. I'm stuck...I made the choice months ago when he escaped from Arkham and I followed. And if he comes to take me back, I'll gladly go...no matter what the outcome of it...I deserve it."

Suddenly, a loud sound from downstairs, like that of a door being kicked in, echoed up the stairs. Crane jumped and walked to his door and peered through the peephole, and his heart began to pound in anger when he saw The Joker following his henchman. His gloved hand pounded a loud knocking on the wooden door and Harley closed her eyes when he heard his voice eerily speak, "Open the door, Crane..."

Harley pulled on The Joker's coat as she looked over at Crane, who was standing still. "Johnny..." she whispered, but when she saw him not make a move for the doorknob, she demanded again, "Jonathan...open the door..."

He looked into her beautiful eyes and, although the sad hue in them made him angrier, he quietly obeyed her wish and stepped back as The Joker walked into the efficiency, leaving Bobby to stand at the doorway.

The Joker stopped in front of his host and his brow instantly furrowed in anger. "Crane..." he growled.

"Clown..." Crane snarled back at him.

The Joker held his gaze for a few more seconds, but then slowly walked to the sofa where Harley was sitting looking straight ahead of her. He looked down at her small frame as she wrapped herself with his big coat. He sighed when he saw that she wasn't going to look at him, but he knew she was being cautious, and he was grateful.

He blamed the strange feeling inside him, but he was unsure of how he would react if he looked into her pitiful eyes.

The Joker turned and met Mike's gaze and he licked his lips as he narrowed his eyes at him. "Bobby..." he addressed his henchman at the door.

"Yeah, Boss?" he replied quietly.

"Take Mike and Harley downstairs," he said. "I need to have a talk with...Dr. Crane here..."

Mike's gaze dropped to Harley, who didn't comply, but The Joker noticed this and said to her, in a deep voice, "Harley...go downstairs..."

She slowly stood up, lifted her first aid bag, and walked to the door, not turning to look at him as she met Bobby at the door, Mike following quickly behind her. The Joker sniffed as he called to Bobby, "Don't let them leave, Bob..."

Bobby and Mike looked at each other, as if they were trying to convince the other to act defiantly. "Sure, Boss..." Bobby answered, and escorted the two downstairs to the cars waiting outside.

The door shut behind them, leaving The Joker and Crane glowering at one another. Crane stayed by the door as his opponent stepped closer, stopping only a few feet from him. He cleared his throat and said, "I know...what you think of me, Crane. I know...what others think of me...what they call me..."

Crane smirked. "You're a monster," he finished his thought.

"Exactly," The Joker said, pointing at him. "I'm a monster, because of what I've done to supposed...innocent...people...of what I want to do to this city...but that's not the real me. Deep down, I'm a normal guy..."

Crane tilted his head, intrigued. "Really now?"

"I'm normal...when it comes to what's mine...Harley, for instance..."

"You don't own her," Crane said.

The Joker had a sense of deja vu but shook his head. "Ah, but you see...I do, actually. I'm the one that showed her...who she truly is, what she was meant to be. And it's because of who she became, that I claimed her. She is mine because I cared enough to listen to her wants...her needs...and I comply, happily." He stepped closer and said, "So, forgive my normality when I get just a bit ticked off...when another man tries to take what's mine..."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid, Crane!" The Joker yelled. "She told me what happened here. Thought you could steal a little kiss from my Harley?"

Crane narrowed his eyes and grinned. "So...that's why you threw a little tantrum? Is that what merited Harley a beating on the back?"

"No, no...that had nothing to do with it. Little domestic spat, is all. But...you and I need to have a little discussion about _boundaries_..." His growl sent slight chills down Crane's neck, but he stood his ground.

The Joker put his hands on his hips as he glared darkly at Crane. "I remember all the sick things you used to tell me about Harley...in the asylum...about your tainted little desires."

Crane gulped. "I don't know what you mean..."

"Oh," he chuckled. "You know perfectly well...you may have been able to...talk about that all you wanted...but now, she's with _me_. And I want respect...not just for me, but for her." He paused as the angry glare grew deeper into his face. "You forced yourself on her...just like Nigma did in her office..."

Crane put a hand in front of him. "Slow down, Joker. I would never do what Nigma did to her. What he did was deplorable! Much like what you just did to her...you forced her, too, you know..."

"Like I said, Crane," The Joker growled. "_Boundaries_..."

"I'll admit: I stole a kiss, as you put it...but she hated it. She was distraught; don't ask me why," he scoffed. "Of all the men that beautiful creature could have chosen...who would've thought that she would become _your Harley_?"

The Joker's grin slowly crept across his face as he replied, "I think the same thing every...single...day."

Crane stared, dumbstruck at the gentle tone of his voice, but snapped out of it when The Joker suddenly shot toward him and wrapped his gloved hand around his neck, slamming him against the wall. He took a deep breath and snarled at him, "I don't know how you got her number, but I'm changing it."

"What do you want, Clown?" Crane asked, slightly choking underneath his firm grip.

"An apology," he simply stated. "For doing what you did to her."

"All this...for a kiss?"

The Joker frowned. "No...it's more than that. You see...you _did _force her...she _lied to me_."

He dropped Crane from his grasp and he coughed to catch his breath. "Fine, Joker. I'm sorry...I...wasn't a gentleman."

The Joker gave him a sideways glance then shrugged his shoulders. "Eh, good enough."

He began to walk to the door, but stopped when Crane shouted, "You don't deserve her, Clown!"

The Joker licked his lips and turned to him, saying, "You don't think I know that?"

He finally walked out the door, leaving Crane with a realization of his true self, and he knew that, as a fellow patient and as a man, The Joker could trust him with what he just shared.

"Bob!" The Joker said as he stepped outside to find his henchman standing by the old Cadillac, Mike at the wheel and Harley in the front seat. Bobby trotted over to him and he ordered, "I'm gonna hitch a ride with these two. Why don't you go home?"

Bobby blinked in disbelief, but soon nodded. "Yeah, Boss." He looked back at Mike and Harley before slowly walking to the car and soon he was pulling into the icy street as The Joker got into Mike's car, taking a seat behind him.

"Drive," he commanded.

Mike gulped and Harley glanced nervously at him as he submitted to his order.

Minutes later, they pulled into the lot of the old theatre and Mike turned off the ignition. Harley could feel her eyes begin to water again when she heard The Joker shuffle into his pocket and take out his pistol. "Harley..." he said softly.

She licked her lips. "Yes...Mistah J?"

"Go inside...and go to bed.."

She looked at Mike then quickly looked at The Joker and tried to plead, "Puddin'..."

"Harley," he said again. "Say good night to Mike...and go upstairs."

She gave their driver a pitiful look and whispered, "Good night...Mikey..."

He looked back at her. "Good night...Miss Quinn," he replied as a tear rolled down Harley's cheek.

She quickly jumped out of the car and limped inside, and when she got upstairs to the bedroom, she closed the blinds of the window tightly and threw herself on the bed. She sobbed into her pillow, hoping her cries would block out the impending gunshot.

Back in the car, Mike's heart began to pound as the silence was broken by the cocking of the gun in The Joker's hand. His sudden sigh made him jump. "You, uh...you hit me pretty hard there, Mikey..." he said.

The rookie didn't reply as his tongue appeared to be glued to the roof of his mouth.

"Do you know why...I let you be alone with Harley?" The Joker asked.

Mike could only shake his head, and The Joker continued, "Because...you recognize...that I trust you around her. That you wouldn't do anything to compromise your work relationship with that of your feelings for her..."

"Boss, I don't feel anything for her--" Mike started to say, but The Joker interrupted him.

"Shut up!" He placed the tip of his gun into the back of his neck. "You must have some feelings, Mikey...some tiny little speck of sentiment for Harley...why else would you attack me like you did?" When the rookie didn't respond, he took the gun out of his neck and un-cocked it, placing it in his pocket. "Although you hurt me...and you did, Mikey Boy, you hurt me really bad...I'm gonna go against my priciples...and forget what happened."

Mike's eyes grew wide as his breath came back to him. "Thanks, Boss..."

"No, no, Mikey. You've proven to me that you would protect my girl while I'm not around...now, go home."

"What?" Mike asked, surprised.

The Joker smirked and shook his head. "Go home, Rook. I'm taking the day off..." With that, he got out of the car and, when he saw his boss go inside the theatre, Mike started the car again and sped off into the street.

When The Joker went into the bedroom, he found that Harley had stripped herself of clothing and had gotten under the thin satin sheet. He walked closer to her and turned on the lamp on her bedside table, and he saw the red welts across her back that were interwoven with small bruises. He reached into her first aid bag, took out a tube of cooling antibiotic and pulled the sheet away from her, making her flinch awake.

"Don't touch me..." she whispered, angrily. However, he took off his gloves and began to administer the ointment on her back, making her whimper in pain but also making her muscles relax as he rubbed her. She didn't look him in the eye when she asked, "Why'd you kill him?"

The Joker kept applying the cream and said, "I didn't. I gave him the day off..."

Harley lifted her head, but still didn't turn to him. "You did? Why?"

"Hold still, baby..." he said, calmly as he popped open a cold pack and placed it under her ribs where he had kicked her.

She finally looked at him and he saw new tears stream down her cheeks. "Why are you doing this?"

He held a somber expression. "Because you're hurt..."

"Just go away..." she said before laying her head back on her pillow.

He sighed as he stood up and wiped the excess ointment from his hands onto his slacks. The Joker picked up his pillow and turned off her lamp, and said as he closed the bedroom door to go to his study, "Good night, Harley."

Later, after dawn peaked over the Gotham City skyline, Harley finally got out of bed, groaning in pain as she got up and put on her robe. She went into the bathroom and looked at the bruise under her ribs, and she noticed that the burning in her back was slowly leaving her. She limped out of the bedroom and went to The Joker's study, stopping at the door when she found that it was ajar.

She peeked in and saw he was lying on his back on the sofa and staring at the ceiling. She didn't know why she knocked on his door, but she was relieved when he lifted his head and their eyes met and he grinned at her. "Come in, doll," he muttered.

Harley went inside and closed the door behind her, walking to the sofa. The Joker sat up and patted the space beside him, and an awkward silence followed when she took a seat.

He rubbed his hands between his knees and soon cleared his throat, "Sleep alright?"

"Not really," she replied. She gulped back the tears that were forming in her eyes again as she felt his hand cup her thigh. She shut her eyes and sighed. "Mistah J?"

"Yeah?" he whispered, stroking her skin with his thumb.

"Do you...love me?"

His thumb stopped caressing her leg and instead of answering, he moved closer to her and pulled her into his lap. She winced as his arm embraced her back and she was made bend her waist to adjust to his hold. "Baby..." he started. "You've asked me that before..."

"And you never answered me..." she pointed out. "I know; I betrayed you. I lied to you...and I'm sorry. Please forgive me..." The tears left her eyes once again and he wiped her cheeks with his cold hands. "I couldn't sleep, Mistah J. I was scared that you...hated me for what I did..."

"Harley...I don't...I don't hate you...would I keep you around if I hated you?" he said, putting his lips to her forehead. "I couldn't sleep either."

"No?" she asked, looking at him. "Why not?"

"I don't know. I was left with my thoughts. It was like I was in The Box again. It was quiet...all I could hear was...nothing...not even your breathing..."

"You should have stayed with me..."

"You told me to leave you alone. You were angry with me."

Harley began to sob. "No...no! I wasn't..."

"You were, and it's okay..." The Joker assured her. "You were upset about...what happened..._everything_."

He held her close as she cried, and she finally wiped her eyes and said, "You still didn't answer me..."

"Harley..."

"Puddin', please!" she begged. "I wanna know...how do you really feel about me?"

The Joker sighed, really not knowing how to answer her. After what he did to her and when he saw her willingness to come back to him, it confused him as to why this fragile woman ended up crying in his arms, begging for _his _forgiveness.

"Puddin'..." she sighed. "If you cared for me, then you wouldn't...you wouldn't..."

He suddenly cupped her chin with his hand and gazed into her blue eyes, now shining at him. He took a deep breath and leaned into her ear and whispered his answer to her, making a small grin grow onto her bruised face.

The Joker came back to look at her, the same expression on his lips. He moved a strand of hair out of her eyes as she asked, "Ya mean it...Mistah J?"

He chuckled and kissed her gently. "Of course I do. Trust me."

**-THE END-**

**By the way, I hope you paid attention in this final chapter as it talks about an event that is going to happen in_ Painted Faces_. ;-)**


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